The privilege of water is . . .

That here in the deepest water,
beyond even rags of light,
nearly transparent creatures glitter and flash
like neon signs floating
down the Las Vegas strip;

That as recently as seven years ago
liquid water flowed down
an arroyo on Mars,
shifting sands and turning small rocks, a pattern
like a palm print on a rusting door;

That on a cold night
water vapor makes visible the breath
of small children, who laugh
to see themselves breathe,

and makes visible the broken breath
of old men forgetting their children in refugee camps,
and the drying breath of prisoners in stone cells,
whose mothers and sisters believe they’re long dead;

That in the beginning the Spirit
moved over the waters like a mighty wind;
that the spirit moves through water even now, even now
through the straw held to a sick man’s lips,
blessed from basin to scallop shell
to the forehead of a crying child;
That we are from conception
almost entirely water.